and we are so gently here

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Once More, With Feeling

And here we are, once again. Decked in red, seeing the faces of yesterday, and helping one and the same. Everything seems so familiar, yet we find ourselves in a different place.

Could it be regret, or wretchedness? That I could not be where I wish to be when the sky exploded in brilliant flashes of colours. Even if it is just beside and nothing else.

It was then. That day was captured in a series of images – all flowing, yet breaking. all sharp, yet blurry. Strips of light shone into the dusty hall, turning everything and everyone into hues of golden brown. I joined for the first time, hands singing gracefully to ‘One United People’. Placed in different groups and foreign territory, we seeked confidence in each other’s presence – constantly looking over, making eye contact amidst the crowd. And there was the professional picture taking – black and whites, candid shots, the forming of the group’s sign. There were games and food, songs and laughter. The teaching of the dance steps, the watching out for each other, the surprising everyone with our news, the exchanging of our lanyards, the neon lights which doubled as my rubberbands, the sparklers, the fireworks, the picture-taking, the going back, the mahjong, the overnight.

I wonder if I've been changed in the night. Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!